Imminence
by Laura x Tennant
Summary: Set after Satan's Pit. Rose can't sleep, so she has a midnight chat with the Doctor. Something happens - something that they swore wouldn't happen again, after last time.
1. Chapter 1

**Imminence**

Rose sat up in bed with a huff. There was no way she was going to sleep tonight; she'd been tossing and turning for nearly two hours, the Beast's words ringing in her ears, the sight of Toby – no, _Satan-possessed_ Toby – flying out of the spaceship after she'd shot the window.

She ground the heels of her palms into her eyes, trying to block out the image. She'd practically _shot _someone; she'd certainly intended his death by releasing his seatbelt. It made her feel sick, but she knew it had been the right thing – the only thing – to do. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she decided to go and find the Doctor. She needed a hug after the day they'd had, and she suspected that after the traumatic experience of nearly losing the TARDIS, he needed one too.

Rose checked his room, the library, and the kitchen on her way to the console room, just in case. But he was where she'd thought he'd be, sitting in the open doorway of the TARDIS, legs hanging out, staring at the stars.

Absent-mindedly tightening the tie of her dressing gown, Rose crossed the console room, knowing from the way his head tilted slightly that he'd heard her. She settled down next to him and bumped her shoulder against his. "Hey," she murmured.

"Hey." His voice was soft when he replied, and he bumped her shoulder right back. He turned his head to look at her. "Can't sleep?"

She shook her head. He gave her a sad smile and wrapped his arm around her, pressing her against his side. "Me neither," he admitted.

"Can't believe what we nearly lost," she whispered, staring at the beautiful nebula in front of them.

"Hmm?"

"The TARDIS. Space." She sighed. "How could you live a normal life after seeing all this?"

The Doctor hid his smile in the top of her head. When he spoke next, his words were slightly muffled by her hair. "I would be a bit rubbish at it, I think."

"Mmm."

"Oi, you're not supposed to agree!" he laughed.

"Well, you would be," she reasoned, tilting her head back to look at him. He raised his eyebrows and she amended, "After a bit of practice, I'm sure you'd have been fine. But let's face it…same four walls day after day?" She paused, widening her eyes dramatically, before asserting in a sing-song tone, "You'd be _so _bored."

"I'd still have you to amuse me, though, eh?" he teased.

She turned back to face space. "Course."

His smile faded a little. "Rose?"

She placed her hand on his thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Of course you would."

The Doctor was silent for a few moments, then cleared his throat. "Um, Rose?"

"Yeah?"

"What we were saying, before, on the Sanctuary Base."

Rose felt her cheeks heating up, and was glad he couldn't see. "Oh, hey, don't, um, don't worry about that."

"No, but…"

"Let's just forget about that, yeah? I mean, it's fine, now, we've got the TARDIS back, we don't need to really analyse what would have happened if we hadn't."

She felt the Doctor give a small nod of acknowledgement, his chin brushing her temple. She swallowed thickly.

"Also," he said, after a short period of silence, "I want to reiterate that you needn't worry about what the Beast said. It was wrong. Obviously."

"It was a prophecy," she said quietly.

"_No_," insisted the Doctor. "No, it wasn't. You are not going to die. I won't let you."

"Will someday."

"Stop it."

"Okay."

They went back to silence for a few minutes. "What's this one called?" Rose asked, gesturing at the nebula.

"The Boomerang Nebula."

"Looks like a bow-tie to me," she snorted.

"It's also known as that, yes."

"It's cool."

"It is," he agreed, with a chuckle.

"Not my favourite, though. I like the Helix one."

"Yes."

"What's your favourite?"

"My favourite nebula?"

"Mmhmm."

He bent his head, and she felt him nudge his nose against her temple. "The Rosette Nebula, of course."

"Sweet-talker," she giggled.

"Weelll. It is beautiful."

"My bum's going numb," she murmured thoughtfully.

He laughed, dropping his arm from her shoulders. "Do you want to leave? Get some sleep?"

"No, just need to move position," Rose smiled. She shifted, then, leaning against the other side of the doorframe and bringing one leg up, so that she was turned to face his side. It meant that she had to relinquish his hold, his touch, but she wanted to talk to him properly, and check his expressions.

He copied her manoeuvre, so that they were sitting either side of the doorway, heads tilted against the wood, watching each other. She was wearing pyjama shorts, so her bare leg was pressed partially against his pinstripe-suited one; she only realised she had been staring at the place their bent legs touched when she glanced up to see him arching an eyebrow at her. She swiftly ignored the questioning look, and ploughed ahead with her own query.

"Ida mentioned that you'd said my name."

His eyes widened. "Ah. Yes, I did."

"Before you fell. Or jumped; whichever."

"Yeah." He reached up to tug on one ear.

Rose bit her lip, but said nothing further. She was evidently waiting for him to elaborate.

"Oh, right," he realised, "Well, the thing was, I was going to tell her to give you message. Just in case."

Rose nodded. "Right."

He swallowed and held her gaze intently. "But then I realised that you knew, anyway, and it would – it would be wrong, somehow, to have Ida…say it. To you. Out loud."

"Or, kind of poignant," Rose suggested, her heart beating hard against her ribs.

"I don't think you would've really wanted to hear that if I'd died," he disagreed softly.

"Are you joking?"

"Well, it's hardly romantic if I'm not around to see your reaction. Not around to…hear it back."

Rose shivered, fairly confident now, under the intensity of his gaze and the fervency of his words, that she did indeed know what he had wanted to say. She was also fairly confident that he wouldn't actually directly speak the words to her, not tonight; maybe not at all.

"Are you cold?" he murmured.

"No."

"Okay."

"So." Her mind was racing right along with her heart. Even if he wasn't going to say it - which was okay, because she wasn't going to say it either – maybe he would tell her in another way. Her eyes scanned over his tense muscles, his burning eyes, the way his hands were curled into fists of restraint. She smiled. She recognised this. She could deal with this, even if they had sworn, after last time, that it wouldn't happen again.

"Mmm."

"Near death experience of the day done and dusted," she said slowly. "Reunion happened. Saved the day, said our goodbyes, end-of-adventure tea in the kitchen."

"Good summary of events," he whispered.

She nodded distractedly, her eyes on his lips now. "At any point during all of that, did you think…want…"

She couldn't finish her sentence, but he answered anyway, a bit breathless. "Yes."

"Which bit?"

"All."

"Okay," she breathed out roughly.

"To be fair, I was also thinking about doing it before the near-death experience, too," he confessed quietly.

"Adrenaline increases the urgency, though," she pointed out. "That's what you said, last time."

That statement sent a tingle down his spine. He licked his lips absently. "Yeah, and that's why we agreed not to let it happen again."

"We've been very good about it, too," she said carefully, testing the waters. Her eyes flickered down his body for a quick moment, before meeting his gaze again. "I mean, it's only because of the extreme circumstances of today that we're even having this…" She floundered for the right phrase.

"Perfectly rational conversation," he finished for her.

"Exactly."

"Yeah."

"Not like it's just been any other day."

"I agree."

"Not like all the rules have to be applied all the time."

"Especially not after such a…difficult experience."

"Exactly," Rose said again.

"I mean really," he continued, his eyes dancing with something a lot like mischief. "Rules are meant to be…crept around, sometimes. If the circumstances call for it."

"Because there's always cause for a…hmm, what's the word I'm looking for?"

"Um…" He paused, thinking. "Loophole?"

"Yeah," she agreed. "A loophole."

"And meeting the Devil is a pretty good loophole. In fact, turning it into a loophole is possibly the only good thing to come out of the situation."

"And we must always, _always _look for the positives, especially after…dark times."

"A spark of hope, and light," he murmured, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smile. "That's you all over." He watched her fiddle nervously with the tie of her dressing gown. He leant forwards slightly, so that he could reach it, grip the soft fabric in his hand, and tug her over to him. She moved willingly.

On her knees, lips hovering just a few inches away from his, she whispered, "Twice is okay. Twice is good. We can justify this happening twice."

"Yeah. We don't have to even acknowledge that this is a _this _until time number three."

"Not that we'll get to time number three."

"Because once is an accident, twice is an oversight, and three times is…?"

"Inexcusable," she concluded.

"Best make time number two worth it, then," he grinned.

"God, yeah," she grinned back, and he helped her punctuate her reply by closing the space between their mouths.


	2. Chapter 2

A few minutes later, Rose was seriously questioning their location.

He was on top of her, both of them still fully clothed, and Rose's back was starting to hurt from the hard surface of the grating. And if they continued to pursue their…activities…here, then she would be left with some interesting imprints should he get her completely naked.

Taking the opportunity to talk to him when he released her mouth to latch onto her neck, she caught her breath and murmured, "Um, Doctor?"

"Mmm?" he grunted, moving his lips against the skin of her throat. She bit her lip as her eyes fluttered closed. He knew just how to nibble in _that _spot to render her thoughts a muddle. He chuckled when she didn't respond further than a moan, and lifted his head. "What's up?"

"Oh," she realised, her thought process resuming, "I was just gonna say, this isn't exactly the comfiest place to shag."

"But so romantic," he grinned, rolling off her and gesturing to the still-open doors of the TARDIS. True, having sex in front of such a lovely nebula was pretty much the height of romance for an arguably relationship-resistant Time Lord, and she hated to spoil it for him, but she really was very uncomfortable.

"Yeah, but…"

"Stay right here," he said quickly, leaning over to press a quick kiss to her lips before scrambling to his feet. "Don't move a muscle. Just stay right there. I have an idea."

Rose rolled her eyes. "Doctor - "

But he dashed out of the console room, ignoring her protests. Several minutes later, he returned.

With blankets. And cushions. Cushions!

Rose couldn't help but laugh.

"Hey," he frowned. "That wasn't exactly the reaction I was hoping for." He dropped his acquisitions to the floor and started arranging them to give maximum comfort to whoever would be on the bottom during the event.

"Sorry, sorry," she giggled. "It's just…well, isn't this all a bit less like spontaneous and more like premeditated? Kinda goes against our 'twice is an oversight' thing, eh?"

"Oi, I was all ready to do it then and there; you were the one who wanted comfort over convenience this time."

"Only 'cos more than likely it would _me _paying for it in the morning."

He grinned, then, suddenly and salaciously. "I would never make you pay for it."

She shoved his shoulder and shifted over, settling atop his makeshift bed to test it out. "Hmm, not bad," she commented, wriggling a little. "Softens the grating a bit, anyway, and at least I won't be left with imprints on my back."

He leant closer to her and pressed his mouth to her jaw, then the corner of her mouth, and then her nose. "Actually, Rose Tyler, I was thinking that maybe…" He situated his hands beneath her waist and succeeded in lifting her as he rolled onto his back, so that she was the one above him.

"Oh," she mumbled, her blush rising up her neck to her cheeks.

He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, delighted with the picture she already made, straddling his lap with a nebula behind her, lighting up the room. And she wasn't even naked yet. His hands went to her shoulders and he dropped her dressing gown. She helped him discard it.

"Could've used that as a pillow," he mused.

"Instead of these thoroughly domestic cushions," she added wryly. "Where'd you get these, anyway?" She picked one up to look at it more closely. "Are they _embroidered?"_

He shrugged, unembarrassed. "I had a friend who liked to do that as a hobby."

Her eyes gleamed. "Oh my god, you did this, didn't you? In one of your regenerations, you embroidered cute little patterns on your cushions_." _She cackled when he sniffed haughtily, confirming her theory. Wiping her eyes in her hilarity, she muttered, "Oh, that's brilliant. That's really brilliant. I love you."

His eyes widened and hers quickly followed suit when she realised what she'd accidentally said. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, and then she felt like she had to break the awkward tension, so she murmured a tentative, "Oops?"

The effect that that word had on the Doctor was astounding. She watched in delight as he giggled. _Giggled. _"Oh, let's get naked," he said cheerfully.

Well, she didn't need a second offer. She quickly pulled her pyjama top off and helped him with his jacket, shirt and tie. As she'd been in bed not long ago, she wasn't wearing a bra, and the Doctor quickly became mesmerised with her chest, his giggles fading out as lust clouded his eyes.

Fuck, she'd be able to get off to thoughts of that expression of his for the rest of her time alive.

"You are," he began, kissing his way down her sternum, "Absolutely gorgeous." He took a nipple into his mouth and she squeaked as he sucked firmly. He spent some time bestowing a significant amount of attention to that breast before moving onto the other, and Rose was soon becoming impatient, moving around on his lap and complaining about him going so slowly.

He finally lifted his head and pouted. "What?"

"I want you out of your trousers," she said, without preamble.

He sighed, as though long-suffering, and mumbled, "Well, I didn't get to do this last time, did I?"

Rose hummed in agreement. Last time, the first time, had been hurried and against the console, with both of them still mostly dressed, her pink skirts bunched up between them and his trousers around his knees. They had been dancing all evening celebrating the coronation, and they'd been chased out of the street party at around ten o'clock by an old lady wielding a handbag. No one else had noticed, so caught up in the revelry, but when the Doctor had suddenly twirled Rose out and then against him in a particularly dashing dance move, Mrs Crotchety had thought them inappropriate, or something.

And okay, so _maybe _the traumatic events of the day had meant that the Doctor had been a bit preoccupied with staring at Rose's face, perhaps even her lips, all evening, and _maybe _Rose had noticed that and retaliated in a completely harmless way by pinching his bum, which Mrs Old Bag had noticed, but it had just been to get a rise out of him – and not _that _sort of a rise, although that did come later – and…oh, blimey, Rose couldn't think anything these days without it sounding like a double entendre.

_Anyway, _point was that they'd raced back to the TARDIS, both eager to continue the light-heartedness of the evening and yet unable to forget the fact they'd nearly been separated for good, _again, _earlier on in the day. And so it had only been natural, really, as some sort of…well, they justified it as a release, a meaningless bout of – of exercise to put the adrenaline to good use and reassure themselves of each other's presence. That was all. Much like how tonight was supposed to go.

Except he was making this into something more than that, now; it was obvious. With all his proper, methodical teasing and attention, and the way he wanted to fuck her in front of the Boomerang Nebula or whatever it was called, and the way his interest had only _in_creased since she'd blurted out her love for him instead of making him run a mile. And no matter how many times they reiterated that this couldn't happen again, they both knew – _knew, _without a doubt – that it would. Because how could they let go of this?


End file.
